


See Me

by ticklishblaine (lightsandsparks)



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-01-06
Packaged: 2018-03-06 10:44:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3131648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightsandsparks/pseuds/ticklishblaine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darren is sick, but he's fine. Really. Chris disagrees. </p><p>Prompted by Sarah lovetheblazer who wanted CC sick!fic. :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	See Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lovetheblazer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovetheblazer/gifts).



If you ask him, Darren would be the first person to admit that he doesn’t always take the best care of himself. The busy lifestyle he leads leaves him absolutely no time for three meals a day, and very little time for a decent night’s sleep. Because of this, he inevitably finds himself sick much more often than he’d like.

However, the other issue that he tends to find himself facing is that it’s hard for him to actually admit it to himself when he’s sick, and that maybe he should probably slow down and get some rest. He knows that somewhere in his subconscious he’s ignoring it, hoping that his bad health will just magically disappear. He can’t afford to slow down, doesn’t want to. And it’s fine, really. He’s always fine.

At least that’s what he tells himself.

So really, it comes as no surprise that he finds himself with an hour until his call time, stationed on the couch in his trailer and almost completely unable to move. His head hurts, his body hurts, everything hurts. He’s pretty sure he’s been dealing with the flu for the past couple of days, but it hasn’t hit him until just now and holy shit did it hit him hard. 

He knows he has to get up, go to hair and makeup and get himself into whatever creation wardrobe has concocted for Blaine that day. But just thinking of all of this is so exhausting that he promptly passes out, sound asleep and dead to the world just a minute later.

The next thing he knows he’s being shaken awake, an urgent and pissed-off sounding voice piercing through the previously silent fog of his mind. Prying his left eye open, he takes in the blurry form in front of him and immediately knows it’s Chris. He groans, reaching up to push the hand off his shoulder that hasn’t stopped shaking him since he regained consciousness, petulantly growling before turning away and snuggling into the back of the couch.  
“Dare, your call time is in fifteen minutes, are you crazy?!”

Somehow, that’s what breaks through to Darren and he jolts up, hand scrambling for his phone to check the time. Shit.  
He’s about to speak when a coughing fit hits, this one so intense that he doubles over, his chest burning. His head is throbbing, his chest is on fire and he’s pretty sure he’s going to throw up soon but he has to get up; everyone’s depending on him and as soon as he’s done coughing he’ll get his sorry ass across set. He has to, he doesn’t have a choice.

“Whoa, whoa, easy there. Are you sick?”

Darren opens his eye, glaring as menacingly as he can while simultaneously hacking up a lung. He waits until a reprieve before shooting back, “What do you think?”

Chris’ annoyed expression turns soft. “I knew it. You’ve been acting weird since Tuesday. Don’t move, you’re not going anywhere.”

Darren wants to protest, wants to tell him that he’s fine and it’s just a little cold, but he’s too dizzy, too tired, and by the time the door is closing behind Chris he’s already fast asleep once more.

When he wakes up again, he’s warm. Not too warm, like he was last night when he woke up in a cold sweat after burying himself in blankets just hours before, but a comforting kind of warm. He feels something pressed against his side and it isn’t just the couch. Confused, he opens his eyes and looks up to see Chris, one hand scrolling through his phone and the other scratching through Darren’s hair. It feels so good that he almost pretends to still be sleeping so Chris doesn’t stop, but it’s futile because suddenly Chris is looking down on him with a small smile.

“Hey, I took care of everything. They’re gonna shoot your scenes on Friday, so you have three full days to relax. And you’re gonna take them, okay? No concerts, no running around to various Hollywood after-parties, no song-writing, no nothing. Just rest, got it?”

He almost wants to tell Chris that he’s insane, but honestly, three days of resting sounds awesome and he doesn’t really have the energy to argue, anyway. “Got it.”

“Good. You have to stop doing this to yourself, Darren.”

A sassy comeback such as “Sorry, mom” is right on the tip of his tongue, but he doesn’t even want to banter with Chris right now, which is how he knows he really must be sick. “I know.” 

“Well that was easier than I thought,” Chris replies with a smile in his voice, still running his hand through Darren’s messy hair. “What do you say I drive you to my house and we order pizza and watch a couple movies, your choice?”

Darren smiles. “Fine, but if I throw up on your dashboard I’m not paying to detail your car.” Apparently there is some banter left in him after all.  
“Fine,” Chris laughs. “I’ll bring a barf bag in that case. Lets just get you out of here.”

Darren smiles, glad that Chris is around to notice, to take care of him when everyone else is too wrapped up in their own lives to bother. It means more to him than Chris probably knows, but Darren will tell him later. For now, he just smiles and nods, rasping between another coughing fit, “Deal.”


End file.
